Go Home Jimmy, You’re Drunk.

A rejected flash fiction

Originally written for Furious Fiction — July, and rejected. 500 words maximum.


“How long do you think they’re gonna last?”

A distinct thunk shook the back wall. Even from across the room I could see the pictures and animal heads shuddering with the force of what was happening on the other side of that wall. I reached under the bar and turned up the music a little, but when one of the picture frames fell down from the wall I turned it up some more.

Aside from the patron that my boss was … servicing … the only customer left in The Viking’s Den was Jim.

Just-Jim-No-Last-Name whom everyone believed to be nearly deaf. Everyone except for me, because the cheeky grin he had blooming under his salty beard gave him away. The only reason he was still here was to listen to the show in the back office.

I took away his whiskey glass and replaced it with water.

“That’s it,” I yelled at him, “you’re done Jimmy. It’s 3AM. Time to go home.”

“Not according to those two,” he chuckled. “They sound like jungle monkeys goin’ at it back there eh’?”

“I mean it Jimmy. Go home,” I said.

“Aw Beau, don’t be like that,” he whinged.

I thrummed my fingers on the bar.

“Your wife is waiting up for you,” I said.

“Why do you think I’m here and not there?”

“I don’t want to listen to her screech at me for two hours straight again, Jimmy. Drink your water and get your happy ass out of my bar before I turn it into jam.”

He took his water and sipped it, slowly, grinning at me every time noises arose from the back. He’d be back again tomorrow night, and the night after, and the night after that.

One of the stag heads on the back wall crashed to the floor with a resounded shout echoing behind it.

“Jackpot,” Jimmy said slyly. “You should tell your boss to build an extra room. He’s gonna wreck his whole bar if he keeps goin’ on like that. Heh. Maybe he should build two. You and me can go make jackpot too …” His chuckle was crispy and wheezy and danced over the music I had playing.

I took his water away.

“You are a perverse, raunchy old shit Jimmy. Go home before I call your wife and tell her you’ve been talking to that Susan lady again.”

“But I haven’t been!” He whined.

“I’ll tell her anyway.”

He growled at me but slid off his chair and toddled towards the door.

“You always treat me so bad, Beau,” he said.

A moment later the back wall’s door crashed off it’s hinges with two naked, tangled up bodies sprawled on top of it.

“Oh shit,” they said together.

“Hey Beau,” my boss said. “How’s it going?”

I leaned against the bar, and could do nothing but watch in slow motion as the wall came crashing down around them with a BANG.

JLRose is an American fantasy writer, 3D artist and game designer living in Melbourne, Australia. She’s spent the past three years working on the first book of The Galean Universe and is currently querying it to agents.

She has just published her first completed work, The Chase, to Amazon Kindle and Kindle Unlimited. Find it here.

This is the first installment of The Lockwood Series, a mini-series from The Galean Universe that follows Cosima Lockwood, an ocelot shifter with a penchant for trouble.